


In Sin and Error

by Persephoneshadow



Series: Make the Yuletide Gay [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Mistakes, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5432696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephoneshadow/pseuds/Persephoneshadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets a mysterious Chistmas present at the office. If by mysterious, you mean utterly horrifying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sin and Error

**Author's Note:**

> A little Christmas gift.

_Long lay the world, in sin and error pining,_

_'Til he appeared and the soul felt it's worth._

 

_"And now, another holiday classic to get you in the mood for tomorrow…”_

The opening chords of "Oh Holy Night" were always a a fraught few seconds, Dean thought. Would it be Nat King Cole? Maybe Sinatra? Or, ugh, Josh Groban. Dean’s stomach lurched when the dulcet tones of Avril fucking Lavign assaulted his ears. He swatted the mute button so hard the pens on his desk shook.

“No thank you,” he muttered to himself, turning back to the spreadsheet currently filling two monitors. His vision was swimming a bit from staring at the thing for hours, but it was a good distraction from the fact he was working on fucking Christmas eve.

“Um, hello?” a hesitant voice asked as his office door was pushed open. A very tired looking delivery girl was holding a package and squinting. “I usually leave these at the front desk but…”

“Everyone left early, wanted to beat traffic or whatever,” Dean sighed. “Is that for me?”

“Suite 407?” the girl asked as she strode in.

“Sounds about right.” Dean took the pack, which at first glance looked looked like it had to contain a text book or something. “So what’d you do to end up on this gig?” he asked, absently turning the package over.

“Hey, I get paid triple for working the eve, I’m not turning that down,” the girl smiled and turned back to the door. “Merry merry, man.”

"Merry merry." Dean shrugged as the girl disappeared into the hall, ripping open the cardboard encasing the book and catching the receipt as it fell. It was obviously an online order – one he didn’t remember making but it was Christmas. He smiled as he found the “notes” section.

 _Hey Bro, y_ _ou keep making fun of my diet so, here’s something to make your holiday extra delish._ Dean shook his head. Weird that Sam cared enough about him eating rabbit food to send an early present but…

Dean’s brains screeched to a halt as he turned the book over and read the title. In a millisecond his phone was out and he’d hit the speed dial.

“Hey man,” Sam’s voice sounded after two rings “You know it’s almost 11 here, right?”

“Dude, what the HELL?” 

“What? Dean are you…”

“Oh, don’t play innocent, _bro_. Where did you even find this thing? And you had it sent to my _office_?” Dean barreled on. “Are we in another prank war? Did I miss a birthday or something?”

“Dean, what are you talking about?” Sam asked, his voice convincingly confused.

“The book!” Dean snapped back. “You should be glad I mailed all your shit already...”

“What _book_?” Sam scoffed back.

Dean rolled his eyes and made a face, knowing full well it was going to waste, but it was the principal. “What book? [_A Natural Harvest: A Collection of Semen-based recipes_](http://supermishamiga.tumblr.com/post/119293070887/supermishamiga-i-just-had-my-misha-autograph-it) _?!_ Listen, I thought you were cool with the whole...liking guys thing after the talk at Thanksgiving and I know..”

“Dude, what?!” Sam almost yelped. “Why would I send you…Dean that’s so gross…”

“Sam I have the receipt with your little note right here, says it was paid for by…” Dean’s stomach dropped. “Crap.”

“Who’s it from? Did Ruby…”

Dean actually had no idea who Gabriel Novak was, but he was pretty sure he was related to whoever the hell the poor slob in suite _**9**_ 07 was. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

“Ya think?”

“I, uh…Can we pretend this conversation never happened?” Dean gulped, suddenly realizing that as gross as it was, he probably needed to get this guy his present from his brother.

“No, I’m never eating anything you make with crème filling every again,” Sam shot back.

“Ugh. Gross,” Dean groaned. “Go back to bed, Sammy,”

“Merry early Christmas by the way, jerk,”

“Yeah, yeah, same to you, bitch.”

Dean hung up and took a deep breath. Better to get this done now. Hey, if he was lucky the Novak guy was already gone and he wouldn’t have to look anyone in the eye while delivering this thing.

The music in the elevator seemed a bit louder than usual as the doors slid closed. “ _Oh come yee, oh come yee…_ ” someone sang over the speakers.

“Really?” Dean muttered as he rose from floor four to nine. The offices of Milton and Freely, CPAs were just as deserted as Singer Architectural below, a single, rather sad tree slouching over the front desk.

“Uh, hello?” Dean called. The door had been unlocked and he could just make out the sound of a keyboard somewhere in the halls. He glanced down at the book in his hands, quickly flipping it so the cover wasn’t visible because…well, this was a weird enough thing already.

“Hello?” Dean looked up at the sound of a voice so low and rough it that was equally parts incredibly hot and concerning for the health of the speaker. “Can I help…”

The guy seemed suddenly flustered, which was really damn inconvenient considering Dean found himself flustered as well. If by flustered you meant very very distracted by the lips and eyes and jaw and stubble of what had to be the hottest tax accountant he’d ever seen.

“Hey, uh, is there a…Castille here?” Dean asked, really proud he only stammered once.

“Castiel,” hot accountant corrected. “And yes, that’s me.”

Fucking _perfect_.

“Oh, uh.” Well at least his face turning red was keeping him warm since the heat had already been turned down on this floor. Explained why the guy was still wearing a trenchcoat. “So, funny thing…I kinda, accidentally got a…well I hope it’s a present. I mean, I know it is but I think it’s a gag. I mean! Joke…that I think was meant for you? I’m in 407 and…”

“Oh god. _Gabriel_.” Castiel said, looking preemptively horrified. “What did he…”

Dean just handed him the book and receipt.

Castiel’s face grew brighter and more mortified with each word he seemed to read. “I am so, so sorry. My brother is…incorrigible.”

“Man, it sounds like your brother is a dick,” Dean said and earned a weak smile from the man. “I’m Dean, by the way,” he went on, holding out a hand which Castiel took hesitantly.  “And I get it. I’ve got a brother too and when I opened it and thought…well, it was a fun phone call.”

Castiel shook his head, laughing quietly. Lines blossomed at the corner of his eyes that…no. Dean was not even going to think the word adorable. Damnit.  “Again, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, at least I got to meet you.” The other man looked up at Dean, his eyes piercing and curious. “I mean, uh, the only other poor schmo working Christmas eve.” Dean clearned his throat uselessly.

“Oh, well, yes. End of the year is busy time for us and, I don’t have any family to get home to locally so…” Castiel replied, dropping Dean’s hand before Dean would think more about how soft it was, or how strong it looked or…Damnit again.

“Can’t imagine why you don’t want to fly out to hang with a brother that gets you such awesome gifts,” Dean joked.

Castiel just sighed. “The debate about toaster strudel versus pop tarts seemed so innocent at first and then Gabriel had to bring the discourse into the gutter.”

“Always comes to that, eh?” Dean asked, the words leaving his mouth before he could comprehend the implication. “I really just said that.”

“Said what?” Castiel asked, squinting a bit before his eyes widened. “Oh. Uh, sorry…my ex, uh, always told me I was too slow on puns.”

“Don’t be sorry, that’s not a bad thing,” Dean really had no idea what he was saying but it made Castiel smile so he went with it. “Sounds like your ex was a jerk.”

“Yes. He…he was,” the other man muttered and Dean fought against the grin that wanted to spread over his face at the use of that particular pronoun. “Um, why are _you_ working on Christmas eve? You mentioned a brother…” Castiel went on, his face serious again as he stared at Dean.

“Oh, uh, yeah, but he’s in freakin’ _Austria_ ,” Dean sighed. “Everyone else is, well, scattered to the winds this year. I got a few invites for tomorrow, but…” Dean shrugged as he glanced through an office door to the lights of the city. It seemed extra empty suddenly.

“That’s…that must be hard,” Castiel offered, and Dean stopped fighting the smile.

“Well, could be worse I guess. I couldn’t have any company at all,” Dean shrugged and answered Castiel’s quizzical look with a grin.

“Oh. I guess that’s true. Now.” The dark haired man seemed to consider thinks for a while. “Dean, would you like…”

“Yes.”

Castiel blinked in surprise.

“You don’t know what I was going to ask,” Castiel stated flatly.

“Does it involve getting to know you? Preferably not here.”

“Yes. I was thinking beverages of some kind might be involved to start things off,” Castiel answered, half his mouth quirking up in a lopsided grin.

“Then hell yes.” They both stood still for a moment, each caught up in staring, which should have felt very strange and weird but…well, maybe it was the shared trauma of even considering the contents of _A Natural Harvest_ , but he was at ease in a way that felt very right.

“We could compare tales of our rambunctious siblings.”

“I might win there,” Dean chuckled.

“Has your brother gotten another family member deported for laughs?” Dean balked. “Then I’m going to win.”

“Okay, that may require food in addition to beverages,” Dean laughed.

“I like that plan,” Cas smiled back.

In a moment they were back on the elevator, drifting closer together as Nat King Cole (hell yeah) filtered softly over the speakers.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“If we do get food, I’m cooking. Not taking any chances.”


End file.
